Just Like You
by WindSurfBabe
Summary: Often has the story of Middle-Earth depended on the existence of a sole person, a thread that, should it come to break, would cause the inevitable defeat of all good. GlorfindelOC.
1. An Unlikely Savior

Disclaimer: none of the characters you recognize belong to me.

Thanks to my beta for this story: The Hobbit Ivy. I had published this a while ago, but I noticed afterwards that quite a lot of mistakes had escaped my attention, so I decided to correct this story.

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- 1 / An Unlikely Saviour -

'You cannot be serious!' exclaimed Varda, pacing agitatedly in Valinor's highest Hall. Her husband shot her a wary look. 'I merely tell you what He has instructed!' he protested, but she glared at him, and he remembered why Melkor, their abhorred brother, had feared her so.

Aulë, who was nonchalantly propped against a carved pillar, looked vaguely amused.

'But it is unfair!' protested Varda, Queen of the Stars, and Manwë grimaced.

'All I know is that an… adequate… female must be found, brought into Arda, and sent to Imladris.'

Ulmo raised an eyebrow: 'That can't be that difficult!' he drawled, which earned him a dark look from the King of the Valar for his insubordination.

'Like you care!' grumbled Manwë, returning to his throne.

'Adequate for what?' asked a soft voice, and Manwë recognized it as belonging to Yavanna, Aulë's spouse.

Everyone was looking at him now and he sighed, rubbing his temples. 'For saving one of the last Noldor.'

'The Noldor have sealed their fate long ago, remarked Mandos dryly from the entrance of the Hall, and the Valar stepped aside, out of the reach of his black cloak, allowing passage to the darkest Lord, Judge of the Dead. 'They have incurred everything that has happened to them.'

'So it may be,' agreed Manwë, 'But this one is… particular. You should know,' he added, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. 'For it is Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower that I speak of.'

'What has he gotten himself into this time?' sighed the Judge.

'Well, it appears that you are to see him soon – again - if we fail,' answered Manwë. 'He is weary, and his will to live is growing thin. He is dying. And,' – he lifted an elegant finger – 'We cannot allow it. It appears that he is still needed in Arda; he has one task yet to accomplish in the events to come.'

'And how will a woman help the matter?' inquired Oromë, who had not spoken yet.

'He must be given a reason to live' came the answer, whispered by Nienna from the darkest corner of the Hall.

'But you requested my presence,' said Mandos, raising a dark eyebrow. 'What is it that you need me for?'

Varda huffed indignantly. 'You see, if the chosen one is not in Arda, she will be brought by force,' she sneered. 'Through death.'

'Wait,' backed off the dark Vala, 'I am no executioner!'

'And I am no matchmaker!' snapped Manwë. 'Find her: the one who can keep the Golden One alive for as long as his life is needed, find her and bring her to Imladris.'

Mandos looked at his King in disbelief, but had no choice but to bow in obedience. 'If such is indeed the will of Eru Ilúvatar, I submit to his wisdom.'

The Valar left the Hall one by one, and Manwë glanced at his wife, who scowled and walked off in a flurry of skirts. He sighed wearily. Yes, he'd rather face Melkor.

***

From his unearthly prison, Melkor smiled. So this was the plan of his ancient comrades to save Middle-Earth, a plan so fragile that a dying man's last breath could extinguish the hope forever.

He had been diminished, that much was true, and cast away into the void through the Door of Night, but his hatred for all that is pure remained potent, and he summoned all his will to help him mar the plan invented by Eru Ilúvatar and the Valar. As the possibilities unfolded before his eyes, he felt a surge of joy in his black heart, for this time, the elves would cause their own undoing, their reputed courage and strife for wisdom a dagger in their heart.

Hidden from the Valar, his spirit flew between worlds, spying on the search for the one who would save the Balrog slayer from his untimely and sad death. His time would come soon.

***

Seena woke with a start, drenched in sweat, and wriggled in panic for an instant, fighting with her tangled covers and trying to remember where she was. Finally it dawned upon her that she was safe, that what she had just witnessed had only been a figment of her imagination; a bad dream.

Breathing heavily, she lay back, wrapping herself up again in the now less-evil blanket, and glanced at the alarm clock: a quarter to seven, which meant she was meant to rest for another precious fifteen minutes; she knew, however, that she wouldn't fall asleep again, and reluctantly climbed out of her bed. Best to get to work early, and leave earlier as well, she mused.

Pulling on her clothes, she searched absentmindedly for a necklace, when her eyes fell on her fake One Ring, glinting softly, almost beckoningly on its golden plated chain. _Funny_, she thought, _I don't remember leaving it here_… On the other hand, she was everything but a tidy person, so finding her things in unusual places did not come as a surprise to her. Her fingers reached out unconsciously for the jewel, and she slipped the cool metal chain around her neck, not quite registering her gesture.

Forty minutes later, Seena stared absently at the other side of the road, her mind still half awake. At this early hour, the streets were empty and silent, and the grey sky was only starting to fade into a more cheerful, pink shade. The air was cool, and Seena wrapped her arms around her to keep herself warm. This was to be the first day of her last week of internship, and then, the long-awaited holidays. Her heart sung in anticipation of the time where she no longer needed to get up at dawn for an hour-long ride to work, crammed in dirty, smelly buses with equally half-asleep, grumpy people. Frowning, she pulled her iPod out of her pocket, and soon the familiar tunes were humming in her ears. Gods, she hated crowds.

"_You're part of the game _

_You're slave to the grind _

_Oblivion _

_Is your key to the Otherland _

_You're part of the game _

_You're cursed _

_You're damned _

_By now you understand_"

Seena realized suddenly that the traffic light had long gone from red to green and, yawning widely, she stepped on the crosswalk. Suddenly, she felt the light weight of the necklace on her skin disappear, as the chain links scattered around. The fake ring bounced off the ground, catching the rising sun, and finally stilled in the middle of the road. Cursing, she bent down to pick it up. _There goes a good chain, perfectly new…_ The traffic lights on the street flickered, and went out, all at the same time, as if an invisible hand had pulled the plug.

Seena did not hear the truck arrive, did not hear the blaring of the horn nor the screech of the brakes until it was too late: she looked up, and saw the driver's white, terrified face twisted in an effort to stop his engine. Somewhere below the clouds of slumber, her instincts screamed for her to run, to jump, to do something for self-preservation, but all she had the time to do was flinch away, trying foolishly to protect herself with her arms. She felt the impact, but no pain was felt.

Opening her eyes, her vision blurry, Seena saw the sky, clear and bright, so very close, so very beautiful. Somewhere far, far away a siren howled, and a shadow moved in front of her eyes. She tried to wave it off, her arms were heavy, so heavy… She felt tired, and as darkness claimed her she thought she could sleep for an eternity.


	2. Captive

- 2 / Captive -

The trees stood tall and proud, surrounding the small clearing where she lay. The green grass beneath her was soft and cool, the sky above blue, a few plump clouds crossing leisurely the space defined by the treetops. The surrounding nature seemed to breathe life from every leaf, a wild energy that was surging through the trunks and the stems and running deep in the earth with the roots. If Seena had had to describe the feeling, she would've said that the forest lived. Not that it was alive, which is the opposite of death, but living, conscious of its existence, feeling joy from the sun above and the fresh wind in the branches. Even the light was different from what she had seen before: golden and warm, it fell through the canopy in sparkling rays.

Seena sat, completely puzzled about her ability to do so: a few seconds earlier she had been lying in the middle of a crosswalk, her body bloody and broken. Now she found herself in a forest almost magical in its beauty, with absolutely no idea how she got there. She was, however, sure of one thing: this could not be the world she had known all her life; the sensation was too foreign. But no matter how pleasant it was, a thought nagged at the back of her mind: what had happened between the moment the truck had hit her and her awakening? How did she get here? And where exactly was 'here'?

She rose to her feet, looking around in awe. The forest seemed so peaceful, so inviting, that one could only want to lay in the soft grass, digging the fingers into the rich earth, and to drink in the life radiating in the clearing. Seena listened raptly, but the surrounding woods were completely silent…

A twig snapped behind her. Her heart skipped a beat and she spun around, eyeing the green depths warily. A soft voice swore, and a man stepped into the sun: he was tall, and his hair was long, falling in dark waves behind his shoulders, held back by intricate braids. Seena's's breath caught in her throat, for she had never seen a man so handsome, nor so threatening, for he held a bow, aiming directly at Seena's head.

'Who are you?' he asked, his deep and pleasant voice contradicting his menacing stance, 'And what is your business here?' His grey eyes were suspicious, boring into Seena as if he wanted to read his mind. But her eyes were riveted to his pointed ears. She blinked.

_This can__not be real_, she thought. _Elves don't exist._ Yet, somehow, she was not entirely surprised, for she had died, hadn't she? For all she knew, the afterlife might be like one of her favourite books.

Since she had discovered the work of J.R.R. Tolkien a few years ago she had been fascinated by the world he had created, and all those that derived from it: elves, hobbits, dwarves… even orcs and dragons, for they were a door out, an escape for her imagination trapped in a demanding routine. She had long dreamt of a world where humans would not be the only intelligent race, where nature would reign in its original beauty, and where bravery and loyalty would still be praised. Now it seemed she was offered another chance in a world where her dreams were real: she wanted to believe it was true…

But then why did her heart constrict so painfully in her chest?

Afterlife. She was dead in her world, her broken body carried away in a plastic bag by paramedics, forensics scraping the remains out of the asphalt, curious passers-by gathering round to catch a glimpse of the pool of blood on the road. Soon, her parents would receive a phone-call… Bile rose in her throat at the thought of their reaction, her knees weakening, and she slid to the ground under the elf's surprised gaze.

'My name is Seena,' she whispered, her voice sounding rough to her own ears compared to that of the elf. 'I do not know how I came here.' A snort came from one of the surrounding trees, and another elf, identical to the one threatening Seena landed gracefully on his feet. 'Lie!' he spat, eyeing her coldly, readying his own bow. 'I sense a lie.' He looked at his twin, and spoke a few words in a flowing language Seena did not understand. The first elf nodded. 'We cannot leave you here,' he said. 'You will be brought before our father.'

The second elf whistled, and more people stepped out into the clearing. Most of them were dark-haired, but Seena caught a glimpse of gold in the background. However, all of them were fully armed and seemed ready to defend themselves should the need arise.

The first dark-haired elf lowered his weapon cautiously, replacing the arrow into the quiver, and pulled out a thin grey rope. 'Your hands!' he demanded, and Seena obeyed. She gasped when the rope tightened around her wrists, almost cutting into the skin. This was not the way she had imagined her arrival into Middle-Earth, or whatever this land was. Elves were supposed to be gentle creatures, were they not? And these guards were openly suspicious, almost hostile, with their cold eyes and their sharp tongues. She wondered whether her life was once again in danger. Well, she wasn't going to stick around to find out.

When the elf pulled her up roughly, she wrenched away from his grasp and bolted towards the nearest horse. Grabbing a handful of its beautiful mane, she managed to hoist herself up onto its back, a small part of her clapping its imaginary hands and wondering how she had accomplished such a prowess. _Thank God for adrenaline_, she thought.

She placed a well-aimed kick in the nearest elf's chest; the blond warrior staggered backwards, more surprised than hurt, and Seena kicked the horse into a gallop. Wind whistled in her ears as the steed jumped forward, its powerful muscles taking Seena away from her attackers. Her wrists still bound, she was struggling to stay on horseback. She could hear the elves' angry cries behind her, but dared not look back: every second was precious, every effort left her less strength for the escape.

Suddenly, the horse beneath her staggered and fell, bringing its rider down, crushing Seena under its mass. She had felt the impact in her very bones, and was struggling to get away from the fallen animal that whinnied and kicked in pain. Suddenly she felt a warm liquid on her bound hands: crimson, sticky blood was pouring from an arrow wound on the horse's neck. As the unfortunate animal's thrashing subsided, Seena realized that there was no chance this injury was accidental. Elves did not miss their targets. She felt a knot form in her throat, understanding that her attempt to flee had just cost a life, and wondered whether she ought to feel grateful that hers had been spared.

She did not fight anymore when the blond elf pulled her roughly from beneath the horse's carcass, unable to tear her gaze from the animal's eyes, glassy in upcoming death. A dark-haired elf was kneeling beside the horse's head and stroked gently the soft mane, whispering a sad, incomprehensible lullaby.

A blindfold absorbed her tears of guilt, and she was shoved roughly forward. As she walked, Seena could hear the soft footsteps of her captors all around her: the surveillance had been enforced, and the young woman wondered whether she was now openly considered an enemy, instead of a trespasser. Seena could almost feel the arrows directed at her back, and dared not speak, despite a morbid curiosity about their destination. Her feet soon started to ache, the high-heeled shoes inappropriate for the long walk in the forest; blisters formed and then were ripped open, and soon Seena was grimacing with every step. 'Beware of the root,' announced a melodic voice to her left and, in full accordance to Murphy's law, the young woman stumbled. Before he could hit the ground, with no means to prevent the fall, someone caught her. The thin fingers dug into her arm as her saviour hoisted her up none too gently. 'Keep moving' he hissed into her ear. Seena caught his scent, as he pushed her forward: a light, intoxicating, and indescribable fragrance that she caught herself longing to breathe in again. She scolded herself, for this was not the time for male interest.

She winced once more at the raw wounds in her shoes, cursing herself, the elves and the whole world for her pains. Too busy listing her woes, she didn't notice that the group had come to a halt, and slammed into someone in front of her. The unfortunate elf swore under his breath, and tore away her blindfold. Seena closed her eyes, blinded by the sudden brightness; she blinked, and when her eyes adjusted to the light, she found herself gazing at the most breathtaking place she had even seen.


	3. Rivendell

- 3 / Rivendell -

The small hamlet had been built, or rather carved out, on the western side of a deep ravine surrounded by a lush green forest. The soft light of the setting sun bathed tenderly the harmonious lines of the buildings, giving the wood a tint of pure gold. It seemed to Seena that the settlement blended into the trees, so that it was impossible to tell where the territory of the forest ended, and that of the elves began.

Seena stared around in awe, until a harsh shove propelled her forward, and she almost stumbled into the dark-haired elf that had just entered the courtyard. The newcomer frowned at Seena's tormentor, his grey eyes narrowing in displeasure. The blond elf shifted uncomfortably, and began to justify himself in Elvish. To Seena's great surprise, the elf lord laughed. 'Glorfindel,' he smiled, 'You are far too susceptible for an ellon of your age. Look at this poor maiden: I do not doubt she is fierce, but dangerous, really?' His kind eyes came to rest on Seena, and he bowed slightly. 'Lady, I am Lord Elrond. I welcome you to my home: Imladris, or Rivendell, as you humans call it.'

Seena nodded uncertainly. She dared not speak, for Elrond held a high rank in elven hierarchy, and she feared to offend him; she wondered whether she needed curtsey, and her legs solved the problem on their own, bending with fatigue. She barely had the time to extend her bound hands to break the fall; Lord Elrond was quicker.

He caught her deftly, glaring at Glorfindel: 'Ties?' he hissed. 'Glorfindel, we will speak of this.' When he gathered her in his arms, Seena tried to protest, but he shook his head. 'You need not fear me, little one, nor any other in my House.' This particular remark was destined for Glorfindel, who bowed grimly and strode away. Lord Elrond smiled down at Seena: 'You must rest. Then, we shall talk.'

***

The pillow was incredibly soft under her cheek, and Seena stretched out her legs voluptuously, enjoying the silken caress of the sheets on her skin. Opening her eyes reluctantly, she observed the room assigned to her: carved wooden columns rose to support the ceiling, forming a dome above the bed. The window was open, the long, pale curtains flowing freely in the morning breeze; everything gave an impression of natural gracefulness, and Seena couldn't help but feel clumsy and plain in this beautiful environment. _This is why humans admire elves_, she thought, _but don't live with them: they are a constant reminder of how imperfect we are_.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts, and Seena turned around to see an elven maid slip into the chamber. The elleth bowed: 'My Lady, I am Almwen. I will assist you, according to Lord Elrond's wish.'

Seena nodded mutely, she and Almwen eyeing each other warily; neither knew exactly what to do next. Seena guessed that the elleth was feeling as awkward around her as she was around Almwen, and she gathered her courage: 'I'm grateful to you and Lord Elrond for your help,' she spoke, 'I wondered… Could I take a bath? I'm afraid it is much needed…'

Almwen seemed to relax a little, smiling. 'Of course!' she curtseyed, 'I will arrange that immediately!'

Half an hour later, Seena was soaking in warm water, wincing as the wounds on her feet burned at the contact. The extent of the damage was not as great as she had feared, but her scorched skin was an ugly sight, and a painful reminder of one cold elf.

Almwen had brought her a gown, a marvel of blue and gold that Seena was too afraid to touch, let alone wear. Only with the elleth's long and insistent reassurance did she agree to try it on. The dress fit her well, though it was a little tight around the chest and the hips: Seena had noticed that elves seemed to be taller and more lithe than humans.

She turned around, marvelling at the way the long skirts whirled around her ankles, feeling like a princess from a fairytale; with the exception that no loving king and queen were awaiting for her, she reminded herself darkly. And Seena longed for the warmth of a friend. The elven world was beautiful, but it was also foreign, distant, like an expensive jewel in a store window.

Pulling on the matching slippers, Seena glanced around. 'Where are my clothes?' she inquired. Almwen looked up from the tray of food she had brought from the kitchen. 'Lord Elrond had them taken away,' she said. 'For cleaning.'

_Riiiight_, thought the young woman. Lord Elrond was a kind ruler, but he was no fool. While he lacked the brutality of Glorfindel when it came to treating uninvited guests, he remained cautious, and would not miss the occasion to search her belongings, in case the blond elf was right. But she had no right to protest, and why would she? There was nothing in her pockets that could compromise her. But there still would be questions that she could not answer, explanations they probably wouldn't believe. And they had no reason to. Seena was sure that if one of them had fallen into her world and claimed to be an elf, she would've called the police right away.

Pushing the dark thoughts aside, Seena glanced curiously at the tray of food Almwen had brought from the kitchen. Her stomach urged her to dig in, but she forced herself to restrain that urge, loath to look like a greedy pig in the elleth's eyes. She picked up a slice of bread, and topped it with what looked like cheese. She was ready to bit into the concocted sandwich, when Almwen stopped her, laughing. 'That's sweet!' she said, pointing to the cheese. 'Dessert!' She grabbed a thin slice of meat, and held it out to Seena. 'Try this.' Seena smiled sheepishly, putting down the inadequate cheese.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, and Almwen squeaked in shock as two fully-armed elves entered the room. They ignored the frightened elleth, the grabbed Seena under the arms. 'Come!' one of them ordered, pulling her out of the chamber.

Seena didn't even bother to resist, walking quickly in order to avoid being dragged; this alternation of good and bad treatment was beginning to get tiresome. After what had seemed like a few miles of corridors, the two guards brought her to a large wooden door, and shoved her into the room.

The young woman stumbled to regain her balance, and looked around. It was obviously someone's office, and the someone in question was obviously obsessively tidy. The walls were lined with shelves that threatened to collapse under the weight of hundreds of books. Seena's eyes widened in envy, for she was an avid reader, and the simple thought of the lore these volumes could contain almost made her shake with curiosity.

Someone coughed softly, and Seena looked up. There was a committee of elves facing her: Lord Elrond looked stern, just like the equally dark-haired elf seated to his right. Glorfindel was sulking in a corner, arms crossed. His blue eyes narrowed when he saw her, and her breath caught in her throat. He really was handsome, but it was a cold, crucifying beauty, almost unbearable to a human's eye.

'Sit,' instructed the dark-haired elf, and she obeyed, sinking into a nearby chair.

'State your name and origin,' demanded Lord Elrond, a steely edge in his voice. Seena gulped nervously. The moment she had dreaded had come.

'Seena Campbell,' she whispered. 'I don't know how to explain this… But I'm not from this world.' It sounded stupid even to her own ears. No doubt they would laugh, believing she was insane.

But the elf lords remained impassive. 'How did you come here?' they questioned.

The young woman explained the accident, the death, the awakening and the journey to Rivendell, watching them apprehensively. Finally, Lord Elrond leaned back in his chair.

'You tell the truth' he conceded, his voice somewhat softer, 'I can feel it.' He stole a glance at Glorfindel. 'But there are details that must be clarified. Such as…' he reached for something on his desk, 'This.'

The morning sun reflected on the small glittering object that lay innocently in the elf lord's palm. 'Tell us,' Lord Elrond demanded, 'how you came into possession of the One Ring.'


	4. To Remember

- 4 / To Remember -

'A fake?' repeated Lord Elrond incredulously. 'But how is the Ring known to you, if you come from another realm?'

Seena licked her lips, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. The time had come for the most delicate part of her story, and she hoped that the elf lords, in their wisdom, would not receive it with aggressiveness.

'Your whole world is known to us' she began, glancing nervously at the listeners, 'For it was the subject of a book. A quite popular book, named "_The Lord of the Rings_".'

'Popular?' hissed Glorfindel incredulously, stepping out from his corner of the room; his long, graceful fingers were balled into fists. 'The Dark Lord, _popular_?!' He stared at her in astonishment. 'What kind of people live in your world, to enjoy the tales of his horrors?'

The young woman winced. 'It is not so!' she argued, 'For this books speaks not of Sauron himself, but tells the tale of the Fellowship.'

Lord Elrond frowned, as well as the dark-haired elf, who had been introduced as Erestor, Elrond's chief counsellor. 'What is this Fellowship you speak of?' he inquired, and it suddenly occurred to Seena that she never found out about what year it was, in Middle-earth. She realized that the events she was about to speak of had not yet occurred.

Who knew what consequences would have such a change in the story? What damage could be inflicted by a knowledge revealed too soon? Seena knew that thousands of lives lay on both scales of the balance. Many would die because she did nothing to prevent it, but how many could be saved?

The young woman closed her eyes, preparing herself. For her refusal to speak would have its consequences; but her choice implied that her own life was expendable. When she opened them again, she locked her gaze with Lord Elrond's silver eyes, praying inwardly that he would understand her decision. 'I understand that the events I was about to divulge are yet to happen' she said, her voice trembling slightly. 'And I am afraid to speak further, for it could change the outcome of the chain of events. I fear for Middle-earth; I fear for all the free people that live in it. Ask no more of me on this matter, for I will remain silent.'

The eerie silence of the room that followed her declaration was broken when Lord Elrond spoke: 'I understand your fear. And I accept your decision.'

'Elrond!' protested Glorfindel, advancing upon him. 'This is folly!'

The elf lord stood up abruptly. 'Just like it would be folly to unchain an event whose consequences we can not foresee,' he snapped, his grey eyes narrowed in anger. Erestor jumped from his seat as well, glaring at the golden elf. 'Glorfindel,' he hissed, 'Your anger is blinding you.'

But the warrior laughed. A sorrowful, bitter sound that echoed painfully in Seena's heart. 'It is you who are blind!' he spat. 'Blind, and cowardly.' He marched to the door, his left hand gripping his sword. Before exiting, he turned around, and his sad eyes bore into Seena. 'You are a traitor' he whispered.

When the door slammed behind him, Lord Elrond sagged back into his chair, and rubbed his temples. 'He is getting worse,' he remarked dryly at Erestor's intention. Turning his attention back to Seena, who had shrank back in her seat at Glorfindel's outburst, he sighed: 'As I said, I understand and respect your position. But you must consider mine as well: you give no proof of what you say. I am loath to treat you badly in order to test your sincerity. But I will not put my people at risk.' He gestured to his counsellor, who called the guards back into the room. 'You cannot leave Imladris,' he finished, allowing the warriors to escort Seena back to her chamber.

When the door closed behind them, Seena's legs buckled and she sank to the floor. The nervous tension she had held pent-up was released, and she watched her hands tremble uncontrollably. Hot tears prickled her eyes, and burned her cheeks.

She was alone. Abandoned, in this painfully beautiful realm; it seemed to her that everything around her was moving too fast, and that she was struggling to keep up with the world. No one would be there to pick her up, no one to hear her. Even Almwen's kindness was foreign.

Seena sent over, sobs racking her entire body. She clawed at the floor, unconsciously looking for support, but the polished wood was like ice beneath her fingers.

***

_I can still see them dying. Can still hear their cries, can smell the thick smoke of the city burning. Even the long centuries granted to my race can not erase them. I close my eyes, and once again I am in the pass, the fiery breath of the demon scorching my skin. The wind howls around us, joining the voices of the dying._

_Gondolin burns._

_My city, my family and my friends, all wiped out in one night._

_The sword is heavy in my hand__; the handle is slippery with blood. From whose wound did it flow? I do not remember. _

_The Balrog takes another step, and I wonder how much longer I will be able to hold it here. And as the final blow comes, I lunge forward, not bothering to keep my defen__se up. It will not buy me time._

_I have fallen, my body broken and burned; I have come back._

_But the world will never again be the same. It has lost some of its brightness, and even the sun seems duller to me now. The trees do not talk to me like they used to._

_I am broken. Why did I return? Is there still a mission for me, another battle? But I have fought many since, and still I see no meaning in this second existence._

_The elves are retreating, abandoning their lands to man and orc alike; we have lost the will to fight for what is ours, the courage of our race extinct since Ecthelion. Elrond says all hope is not lost. But my eyes are open wide, and I can not find it._

_Until her._

_I__ could love her. I really could; she is beautiful to me, in all her imperfection and fleetingness. She burns with a fire within, a fire only the mortals possess, in their eagerness to enjoy every single second of their short life. And I am drawn to it; I long to be burned._

_I love her already._

_But__ there she stands, pleading for me to understand her decision. Asking me to forget the treason, to forsake the memory of those who were betrayed and slaughtered, or dispossessed and exiled, the blood of their families still wet on their hands._

_My whole being is repulsed by the mere thought of it, and I can feel my hatred rising, the same hatred that brought my death and denied me the rest in the Undying Lands. My hand grips my sword, and I am once again beyond reason.__ The selfishness of her decision revolts me, her pleas scorching my ears; so hollow, so cowardly._

_I hate her. She is beautiful, and so ugly__. This is the curse of our race: to love on first sight, and to remember forever. _

_To remember the massacre of Gondolin, and to blame the one I love._

_Seena. The name rolls off my tongue, so sweet, and I wonder briefly whether it has a meaning. It does not matter._

_Elrond, my friend, I will not hear you__r arguments. Can you not see it? The pain and the memories are eating me alive. Soon I will be gone. My gloominess will spoil your feasts no more. My outbursts will tarnish again the tranquillity of your Halls._

_I am finished._


	5. Friend And Foe

- 5 / Friend And Foe -

'She is waking up' whispered a male voice, and Seena felt a wet cloth being pressed delicately on her forehead. She opened her eyes, wincing inwardly at their soreness, and the worried face of Lord Elrond came into view. 'Seena? How are you feeling?' he asked, his eyes assessing the sorrow and guilt in hers. The young woman gulped, remembering her collapse, earlier that day. Or was it? She looked to the window, trying to guess how much time she had been unconscious.

'It has been two days,' whispered Almwen to her right. The elleth was sitting on the edge of the bed, her beautiful face pale and tired. 'You were delirious, and we thought…' she trailed off, glancing in uncertainty at the elf lord.

'We feared you were lost,' he finished, smiling kindly. 'But it seems your health, at least, is now out of danger.'

He bended to touch her cheek briefly. 'Do not trouble yourself so, child,' he whispered. 'Your decision is just, and brave for one so young. You deserve respect for it.' He smiled again and exited the room, closing the door with a soft click.

Seena stared at the window, as Almwen fluttered around her, babbling about the state of the sheets, the food to be brought or the weather. Seena, however, knew that the elleth was afraid of her; afraid she might die.

Human death was permanent, inescapable and ugly; there was no rebirth, no happy reunion with one's family – at least none that Seena believed in. The perspective seemed to terrify the elleth.

'Here,' muttered Almwen, pulling the covers higher over Seena's body. Then she looked at her, playing nervously with the embroideries on her sleeve, maybe searching for words of comfort. Finding none, she walked to the door, and Seena realized that she did not want to be left alone.

'I'm sorry,' she said, her voice hoarse from the cries that had escaped her during her tormented unconsciousness. Almwen turned around. 'For what?' she asked cautiously, and Seena smiled sadly. 'For scaring you.'

'You aren't going to die, are you?' asked the elleth suspiciously, frowning.

The young woman smiled sheepishly. 'Not planning on it.'

The elf let out a somewhat shaky sigh of relief, and perched cautiously on the bed. 'When you are feeling better,' she began tentatively, smoothing out a crease on the sheets to mask her awkwardness, 'I could show you around Rivendell, if you like?'

Seena smiled, grateful for her attempt at starting a friendship. 'I would love that.'

***

Almwen laughed at Seena's expression, as they stood on a narrow path, looking down to the sunlit valley. 'It's beautiful!' Seena breathed out, gaping at the way the rays of the sun seemed to caress the settlement, painting Rivendell golden. She pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders, and smiled at her the elleth. 'I have never seen such a beautiful place in my whole life!'

Her new friend's smile widened: 'And this is nothing! If you ever go to Lothlórien, you will see the Golden Trees of the Lady's realm; the elves of those woods live in talans, built high above ground ; Imladris could never compete with their magnificence.' Suddenly, Seena's stomach grumbled loudly, and the young woman smiled sheepishly. 'You hobbit!' teased Almwen. 'Fine, let us return.'

The two women began their descent to the Last Homely House.

'Tell me more about Lórien!' begged Seena, struggling to keep up with the elleth's light steps.

Almwen glanced behind her, and slowed down to let her human friend catch up on her. 'Well…' she began, 'It is reputed to be the safest place in Arda: the borders are guarded by the Galadhrim.' She lowered her voice. 'They are fierce warriors… And they are very handsome!'

Seena snorted. 'I suppose their skill in battle is a quite secondary merit?' she inquired snidely, and Almwen grinned in return:

'Well, I don't want to _spar_ with them…' she shrugged.

Giggling, they ran down the last path, racing breathlessly into the courtyard. 'Come!' cried Almwen, pulling her towards the buildings. She finally slowed down in one of the corridors, much to Seena's relief. The elleth's enthusiasm was contagious, but Seena was still recovering from her short illness, and was struggling to keep up with Almwen's energy. She leaned against the wall, panting. 'A few more meters and I'm dead.'

But the elleth shushed her hurriedly, glancing towards an open door. 'These are the kitchens,' she whispered, 'And Ciaran is a very territorial elf. Last time I was caught here…' She winced, and poked her head into the room.

'He is not here!' she announced cheerfully, motioning to Seena to follow. They crept more or less gracefully into the kitchen, and Seena looked around hesitantly, not daring to touch anything; but Almwen grabbed a knife and sliced some bread. 'Take a jar!' she whispered, nodding towards the stock of honey.

A few minutes later, they were lying in the gardens, enjoying their sweet snack. 'Tell me about your world,' asked Almwen, her sentence somewhat muffled by the bread and honey. Seena leaned back on the soft grass, closing her eyes. She felt the sun caress her skin, heard the Bruinen flow nearby; everything in Rivendell spoke of peace, of beauty and wisdom.

She inhaled deeply, drawing strength from the surrounding nature, and began to describe her previous life, the first words leaving her lips with difficulty: the pain of her loss was still fresh. Her elven friend marvelled at the technology she described, gasped in horror at the darkest passages of human history and, her curiosity finally satisfied, declared her a fine storyteller. 'I admire you,' she said. 'Had I been in your situation, I would have faded.' Seena smiled sadly: 'I don't have that option.'

They lay in silence for a while, both feeling the necessity to let the gloomy moment pass by. Finally, Almwen leaped to her feet and brushed the crumbs off her dress. 'Where to next?' inquired Seena, propping herself on her elbows, and Almwen smiled. 'Have I not told you there are also some handsome warriors in Imladris?' she grinned. 'Next comes the archery field, of course!'

***

'Beautiful!' breathed out Almwen, her chin resting on her folded arms, as she and Seena watched the training of the Rivendell guards. The elleth turned towards her friend: 'Aren't they?'

The young woman agreed wholeheartedly, unable to tear her eyes from the sight before her. 'I think I died and went to heaven!' she squeaked, as one of the twin sons of Elrond – Elladan or Elrohir – flashed them a smile.

A golden shimmer caught her eye, and she froze as Glorfindel stepped onto the training field. He exchanged a few words with the twins, and unsheathed his incurved sword, the silver whisper of metal echoing in the clearing. The elf did not seem to notice her, and bowed to his dark-haired opponent.

Another sword was drawn, as the two warriors circled each other. Elrond's son lunged forward first, but his attack was expertly blocked. A counter-attack was attempted and failed; the two women watched the combat with wide eyes. But while Almwen wondered at the skills of both opponents, Seena's gaze was fixed on the Golden Lord. His movements, fluid and graceful, were those of a predator, and fascinated her. His handsome face was serene, for he did not want the twin to read his expression. Only his eyes betrayed the intensity of his concentration; in them burned a blue flame that seemed to consume her from inside. Seena's heart constricted painfully in her chest; she longed to touch him, to be close to him, now that he didn't see her. And she was terrified of him, of his disdain and his wrath.

She would rather him remain indifferent, even if it meant forever.

Glorfindel whirled around to dodge the blade; his eyes widened briefly as he saw Seena standing at the edge of the training grounds, and his opponent seized the occasion, not noticing the elf lord's distraction.

Elrond's son paled as his blade bit into skin; Almwen gasped.

Clenching his teeth, Glorfindel raised his hand to his cheek and wiped the dripping blood with his fingertips. 'You won,' he conceded, nodding stiffly at his shocked opponent. Then he looked at Seena, who stood, trembling under his gaze, and his eyes narrowed in anger. 'Enjoying the sight of blood? Do not worry. Because of you, much more is to come!' he spat.

Seena's eyes widened in pain at his accusation. If only he knew the doubts that ate at her every conscious second, the guilt, the fear that one day she would see the victims of her decision… Gathering her skirts, the young woman fled to her room, tears blurring her vision while she ran.


	6. Insanity

- 6 / Insanity -

Seena threw herself on the bed, sobbing uncontrollably. She wanted nothing more than to bury herself beneath the covers and die of misery. How cold were his eyes on her! How harsh his words…

The young woman heard the door close, and the mattress sink slightly as Almwen sat down beside her. She felt a friendly hand touch her crown tentatively. When she made no move to reject it, Almwen began to stroke her hair. She whispered words in Elvish, soothing despite their lack of meaning for Seena. Soon, the tears subsided, and the hurt was replaced by despair: Glorfindel had rejected her immediately upon knowing her decision. What would her only friend say, if she came to discover her secret? How would the other elves react? Seena suspected that only their aversion for violence would then save her from a public stoning.

'Seena ?' asked Almwen tentatively. 'Are you better?'

Seena nodded half-heartedly, burying her face into the sheets. She expected the next question. 'What did Lord Glorfindel mean?'

Seena considered for a moment lying to her friend, but she feared the elleth could sense her lies. And even if she didn't, if Glorfindel chose to divulge her dilemma, and the choice she had taken, Almwen would know she had hidden the truth from her. Either way, Seena would end up losing her only friend. But to tell her that she had probably condemned many an innocent to die was certain to drive her away as well… It seemed to Seena that she was trapped: whatever her choice, she was going to end up alone once again.

She gathered her courage, and pushed herself up to face Almwen. The elleth watched her with concern, brushing away a strand of hair that had stuck to her tear-smeared cheek. 'If you wish to confide,' she said softly, 'I will gladly listen. But I will not push you, Seena. You are my friend.'

The young woman sniffed, her heart constricting at the idea of losing this friendship. She tried to engrave the memory in her mind, so she could cherish it once Almwen was gone. Her voice was trembling when she spoke on the book, of the world it described, and of the knowledge it contained. She explained her reasons, her fears, her voice growing more impassionate by the minute. She had to make Almwen understand.

When she finished, the elleth looked at her gravely. 'I will not pretend to understand,' she began, 'but I cannot judge you either. I do not know enough to do so.' She sighed. 'I feel that you will often regret your decision… But as I said, we are friends. Throughout this test, you will have my support.'

Seena almost cried in relief, and hugged her Elven friend, who returned the gesture somewhat awkwardly; apparently, elves were not used to such effusive demonstrations of affection. When Seena finally accepted to release her, she frowned. 'Lord Glorfindel has been less tolerant, I presume?' she asked unnecessarily. The young woman nodded, the cold, contemptuous voice still stinging her ears.

The elleth looked to the window, pensive. 'When he returned,' she began, 'He was changed.' She stole a glance at her human friend, making sure she knew what exactly Glorfindel had returned from. 'I never knew him _before_, but now… He is scarred, angry, aloof.' She looked Seena in the eye. 'He is fading, I can feel it. We all can.'

The young woman's heart skipped a beat at the idea. 'Is there nothing that can be done?' she whispered, longing to hear an affirmative response, but the elleth shook her head. 'Lord Elrond has tried to help him,' she replied. 'But it is his soul that suffers, and those wounds rarely heal.'

***

Days went by, as Seena did everything in her power to avoid the Golden Lord. Comforted by Almwen's understanding and support, she had hardened her heart to his words, and arranged a routine that allowed her to stay out of Glorfindel's sight.

If ever she was to see him, she would turn away hurriedly, eyes downcast, cringing inwardly in expectation of another sneer. Yet none came. He would watch her, imperturbable, as if he waited for some fault on her part, for a mistake, a sign. His eyes ever of ice, his stance menacing.

In the beginning she had attempted to steal glances at the reborn warrior, trying to see whether what her friend had said was true. Was he really fading? Why?

The questions bothered her incessantly, a nameless worry in her mind. She could not express why the perspective of Glorfindel's disappearance was so distressing, whether she didn't feel any of such anguish when she envisioned the death of another. He was just too magnificent to fade…And not only because of his Elven beauty.

There was a fire within, a flame beneath the ice; she watched it flicker through the cold surface, longed to set it free. He had a spirit that was once broken ; for even an elf as strong could not stand to see again and again the fall of his city, to almost taste the blood of those he loved. He was suffering, and she was aching with him.

It was an attraction she could not name: not only desire, not untainted love: a physical pull to be near him at any time.

No matter how hard she tried to be discreet, her attempts at spying were always noticed. They were met by narrowed eyes and an inquisitive look, before he turned away in disgust, his beautiful mouth curling into an ugly grimace.

She knew she was no match against him. She was no-one, in this world. He didn't want her pity. He didn't even want her breathing.

So Seena gave up, though her heart always beat a little faster when she caught a glimpse of golden hair: usually a Mirkwood or Lorien elf.

She avoided him when awake, and dreamed of his face when she slept.

***

_I__ fear I am going insane._

_The attraction I feel is driving me mad; she seems to have become all I can ever think about, and both daydreams and angry thoughts plague my mind. Even Elrond has noticed my distraction, remarking dryly that I had become truly jaded if the prospect of trolls roaming the nearby woods did not stir a reaction. _

_I love her. I want her._

_S__he hates me. _

_And _that_ does provoke a reaction, one of a violence I did not expect. It makes me sick. Physically._

_The fear in her eyes cuts me better than a blade, and yet tastes sweet on my tongue. It is the taste of my own blood. There is food for my hatred: I will not stand idly when she decides single-handedly of the death of innocents; she, stubborn, unwise, pathetic little human._

_She is so young, so naïve. She thinks she__ has a say in a world she does not belong to; that she can withstand the pressure of thousands dying: not even I could do that. I chose to fall. She might think of it, someday. _

_To my horror, I underst__and that I am amused, and moved, by her laughable bravery._

_My resolution is crumbling like a drunk dwarf's home._

_Her innocence will soon triumph of my hatred, and of my resolution. Then I will yield, surrender to her will, merely happy to see her like some smitten elfling._

_And no one will speak for the condemned, none will be the voice of reason. Except that I'm not even sure what reason is, anymore._

_I am already too weak._

_I have seen her spy on me, my instincts screaming for danger__, only to be silenced by the quiet voice inside me that sounds so much like her. It wants to be watched by her, _seen_ by her._

_Oh how low the elf lord, the mighty Balrog slayer has sunk!_

_Now, I watch her in return. She does not notice, how could she? After all, I have millennia of military experience on my side. For this is a war we wage, a race for domination._

_She has a head start._


	7. Haradrim

- 7 / Haradrim -

Seena walked distractedly towards her room, not paying attention to her trajectory. Her arms were loaded with books: treasures of elven lore, some translated into Westron, some magnificently illustrated. She looked forward to studing them, her love for reading having found a paradise in the Rivendell library.

She looked up when she heard the whispers, and the hurried steps. Some of the inhabitants of the House were rushing to the main courtyard, whispering excitedly, and Seena suddenly remembered what Almwen had told her, the previous day: a group of Haradrim, men of the South, was to arrive to Imladris. There would be merchants, she had learned, travelling with their bodyguards an ancient route to return home.

Seena glanced enviously to the small groups of elves that left their duties to welcome the Southrons. She wanted to see the exotic travellers as well, but dared not appear in a crowd without her friend and unfortunately Almwen was taken with her duties for the day. Seena sighed, disappointed that they should miss this rare occasion, and continued her way.

Spotting a larger group of elves in the corridor she usually followed, she changed her route; there was also the second reason why she was loath to go welcome the Haradrim on her own.

Glorfindel.

As captain of the Imladris guards he would be there unmistakably. The corridor she favoured came too close to the courtyard to be safe, and so Seena found a smaller, quieter passage.

This part of the House was silent, the calm almost reverential, and Seena hurried up: she could not help but feel that she was not supposed to be there. Fewer torches burned on their supports on the walls; there were statues, and paintings on the walls that she stopped to admire.

The fall of Sauron, Valinor, Luthien: the artist had captured the very essence of Elven beauty and skill in his work, and Seena almost expected the characters to move. She passed a statue holding a broken sword, the shattered blade glowing softly in the dim lights; _Anduril_,thought Seena, resisting the urge to touch the weapon that would become legend.

Distant footsteps made her jump, and she hurried away, heart beating fast at the prospect of being caught in a forbidden part of the House. As she glanced around, a painting caught her eye.

The flames were licking the white towers of the citadel, as the army of monsters marched in the streets; mayhem, murder, blood all around. The skies seemed to vomit a thousand dragons, blotting out the sun. Above the fallen city, in a mountain pass, a Balrog, immense beast of shadow and flame, advanced upon a lone warrior.

His golden hair fluttered in the wind, escaping from under the helmet. His armour was broken, bloody, but he stood proudly, his sword raised to challenge Morgoth's monster.

Seena swallowed with difficulty. This was Glorfindel. This was his agony and his death, painted on a wall in a remote corner of the settlement. No wonder no one ever saw the pain, the fury and despair on his face. The tears that drew rivulets on the ash-smeared cheeks. The unnecessary, already lost challenge in his eyes.

Seena clenched her teeth, fighting back tears in surprise. She had not thought she would ever be so moved by a simple painting. But then again, it was not a mere smear of colours on stone. It was Glorfindel.

Seena wiped her eyes hurriedly, clutching the books tighter, as if the volumes could bring her comfort. He had returned, hadn't he? He was somewhere in the House, with friends, in safety. Maybe he was smiling at some joke the twins would crack. He was fine.

But Almwen's words came back to her, whispers of fading and another painful death. Just like the image of a golden warrior about to fall, they remained engraved in her mind.

'My Lady, are you feeling well?' a concerned voice rang behind her, and Seena jumped in surprise, almost dropping the stack of books on the floor. She turned around.

A young man, probably only a little older than she was, was looking at her, his dark eyes squinted to assess her distress. 'Are you unwell?' he repeated, and Seena shook her head, forcing a smile on her lips.

'No, I'm fine' she replied. 'Thank you.'

The stranger smiled in return. 'I had heard that Elven art was truly beautiful,' he remarked, glancing to the painting. 'Enough to draw tears.' He bowed courteously. 'Dalamyr, at your service, my lady.'

Seena blushed slightly, and attempted a curtsey, the heavy books rendering the gesture somewhat clumsy. 'Seena,' she said, stealing a glance at her new acquaintance.

He was tall and muscular, clad in the Southrons' traditional black clothes. He wore a scimitar in a leather scabbard, and an incurved knife in his belt. His skin was tanned, as dark as Glorfindel was pale; his eyes black. Seena guessed he was one of the bodyguards of some wealthy merchant.

Dalamyr studied her with the same open curiosity, and the young woman felt self-conscious. 'I must go,' she curtsied again.

The young man laughed. 'You need not curtsey,' he smiled, his eyes full of mirth; 'I am no lord.' He bowed. 'And I shall take my leave now, since you obviously wish to be left alone.'

Before Seena could react, he flashed her a charming smile and walked away, and the young woman was left, puzzled, in the empty corridor.

***

Almwen giggled excitedly as her friend finished her story. They were sitting on the bed of Seena's room, nibbling on their improvised meal, result of Almwen's latest raid on Ciaran's territory.

'So he is handsome?' asked the elleth again, leaning forward eagerly; Seena nodded reluctantly, a little embarrassed to admit the pleasant first impression left by the Haradrim warrior. Almwen clapped her hands together. 'This is excellent news!' she decided, and her friend lifted an eyebrow. Somehow, such enthusiasm didn't seem a good sign to her.

The elleth swallowed what was left of her part of the dinner, and proceeded to explain. 'Well…' she said, brushing nonchalantly the crumbs off her skirt, 'He could be a suitable partner…'

'A partner?' repeated Seena sceptically. 'For what?'

'For the feast, of course!' Almwen looked at her friend in surprise. 'Don't tell me you did not know?!'

Seena scowled. 'Apparently I didn't. Now, do light my lantern!'

Her friend grinned, enjoying the moment; she took her time to get more comfortable, laughing at Seena's impatience. 'The autumn feast,' she began, 'will take place in a week. And I think' - she wiggled her eyebrows – 'that you and this… Dalamyr would look lovely together.'

Seena wrinkled her nose. 'I don't think he'll be interested.'

Almwen smiled wickedly. 'Oh, we will make sure he will…'


	8. The Feast

- 8 / The Feast -

An excited squeak broke the tranquillity of the garden, and Seena jumped in surprise. Dalamyr burst out laughing at her bewildered expression, as Almwen rocketed through the well-kept lawn, flailing her arms. 'Seena!!' she cried, 'You will not believe it!'

Seena rolled her eyes, smiling sheepishly at the warrior sitting beside her on the stone bench. At times, her Elven friend was more human than she was. She looked up to see the elleth's slightly flushed face pale when she assessed the situation. 'I will just… Just go,' Almwen blurted out, grinning, and sped out of sight.

Seena shook her head. 'Interesting friends you have,' commented Dalamyr, smiling widely. She returned the smile, and he caught her hand again. 'So, your answer is?...'

'I'll come with you to the ball,' she replied, meeting his dark eyes. They were pools of obsidian, full of laughter and mirth. So unlike the ice of Glorfindel's gaze…

The warrior raised her hand to his lips, brushing a light kiss on her knuckles. 'I am most pleased to hear it.' He glanced to the bushes behind them. 'I shall leave you now,' he added, standing up, 'For your friend seems to be in need of your help.'

Seena glared at Almwen, who was trying to disentangle her gown from the thorns, and muttering in Elvish. 'Serves you right for spying on me,' Seena commented dryly.

'On us, you mean,' smirked the elleth. Finally free from the bush, she plopped down on the bench beside Seena. 'So?'

'So what? I don't see why you even bother asking… It's not like you weren't here when I gave my answer!' Seena rolled her eyes again at the elleth's sheepish smile.

'Well, I am happy you like him' Almwen decided. 'You do, do you not?'

The young woman nodded, looking away while Almwen went on again about how they would look good together. The elf was right: Dalamyr was handsome, kind and had a good sense of humour. She should be head over heels about him… And yet she found herself comparing him to Glorfindel, which was unfair.

The young warrior did not possess the age of the elf lord, nor his experience, nor his Elven blood. He was bound to lose the contest, even if he had been a King of Men. Seena enjoyed his company immensely, but she caught herself regretting his hair was not golden and his eyes so young. She even noticed how often she smiled or laughed. Glorfindel rarely allowed such a display of emotion on his beautiful face. Of all the times she had watched him, never had she seem even the slightest ghost of a smile on his lips.

Shaking off the unwelcome thoughts, Seena forced her attention to return to the matter at hand. 'And what about you?' she inquired, pleased to see a huge grin spread on her friend's face.

'You will never guess who asked me to accompany him to the ball!' Almwen squeaked.

Seena bit her lip. 'Lord Elrond himself? Erestor? Glorfindel?' The last name scorched her lips, and she hoped for a negative answer. The elleth swatted her on the arm, looking around nervously. 'Of course not!' she whispered, glaring at Seena, who smirked. 'Well, as you do not seem interested…'

'Oh come on!' Seena leaned forward. 'I'll die of curiosity, if you don't tell me!'

'It's Elrohir!'

Seena's eyes widened. If one of the sons of Lord Elrond himself had invited her friend, she understood her excitement, though she was damned if she knew how Almwen had distinguished him from his twin. 'You are lucky!' she smiled. 'He is kind and handsome… And a skilled warrior.'

The elleth caught Seena's hands in hers. 'Oh Seena, I am so happy Dalamyr invited you! I was overjoyed that Elrohir asked me, and I wanted you to be happy as well!'

The young woman smiled, disguising the slight bitterness she felt. 'I am happy,' she confirmed.

***

Dalamyr gaped softly when she opened the door, but regained his wits almost immediately; he bowed, smiling, and took her hand. 'My Lady, you look breathtaking,' he murmured, kissing her knuckles. Seena blushed, and glanced at Almwen for reassurance. 'Thank you,' she breathed out.

The warrior led her out of the room and into the Hall of Fire, through the endless corridors of Lord Elrond's house ; as they walked, Seena gazed around in awe, wondering at the beautiful decorations hung up for the occasion of the feast. Red and golden lanterns, autumn leaves woven together with ribbons… The Hall was a sight to behold. Dalamyr led her to a table occupied by several other Southrons. 'Lady Seena,' he smiled, may I introduce you to two of my friends: Hidâr and Abrakan, and to Narafât, our leader. The three men smiled and nodded politely.

As much as Seena enjoyed Dalamyr's company, she wished Almwen was there as well; she didn't feel comfortable spending the evening in the company of three strangers, and only one person she knew.

She hid her disappointment when she saw her Elven friend sit beside one of the twins, at the Head table. It seemed that she didn't have much of a choice; but she was nonetheless determined to have a good time. Maybe Dalamyr's friends would prove to be as kind as he was… The men studied her with interest; one of them smiled, and spoke to Dalamyr in their harsh language. The young warrior scoffed, then turned to Seena. 'Abrakan says that he should've asked you first,' he explained, glancing towards his friend. 'I am glad he didn't.' She blushed again, cursing herself inwardly that she should be so highly emotional.

'You are human,' stated Hidâr, speaking with a thick accent. 'But you live with Elves?'

She shrugged. 'I have friends here,' she replied, loath to discuss any further the reasons for her stay in Rivendell.

'Humans and Elves, friends,' repeated Abrakan, 'Like in old times.' He nodded approvingly. 'It is wise.'

The conversation soon steered away from the sensitive subject, and Seena found that she was able to relax and enjoy the company. As much as she loved Almwen, she realized the Southrons were a welcome change, refreshing and fascinating. She questioned them about their culture and traditions and they answered gladly, flattered by her curiosity. Only Narafât was unsettling: he hadn't spoken since her arrival, only staring at her, and smiling when she caught him doing so. Uneasy, the young woman chose to ignore him.

She looked back towards the Head table. Almwen beamed at her, raising her cup in a salute, and Seena felt happy for her friend. Then Elrohir – or was it Elladan? – leaned in to whisper something to the elleth, and her attention was stolen again. Seena grinned. Her friend would have a lot to share, once the feast was over.

A golden shimmer caught her eye, and she looked involuntarily at the source. Clad in a deep green tunic, Glorfindel was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, a displeased frown on his face. In the surrounding merriment, he stood out, grim and aloof. He glared at one of the other guests when an attempt at polite conversation was made, and scowled in response to Lord Elrond's reproachful look.

Seena wondered what had displeased the Golden Lord so. She glanced at him again, and found herself staring straight into his eyes. As always, their coldness washed over her; but today, there was more to it. A flame had been kindled, brutal and scorching. The young woman felt as if she had been stripped bare and quartered on a slab of ice. His eyes narrowed in anger, breaking the sombre charm.

Seena gasped, and looked away.

'Are you unwell?' inquired Dalamyr worriedly. 'You are pale…'

'I am fine,' she reassured him, attempting a smile. 'Really!' she added, when he pulled an unconvinced face.

The young man brightened slightly. 'Then maybe you are feeling up to dancing?'

Seena beamed at him. 'I'd love to!' she replied, listening as the first notes of a melody filled the hall. Dalamyr rose, helping her to her feet, and led her to the centre of the room, where several other couples had already gathered. He pulled her closer gently, resting his right hand on her waist. Seena's heart skipped a beat at their proximity, at how handsome and how close he was…

The music unwound, pure and beautiful, and Seena found that her body almost seemed to move along of its own accord, invited by the flowing melody. Dalamyr held her in her arms, as they spun on the floor of the Hall of Fire.


	9. Wrath Of An Elf Lord

- 9 / Wrath Of An Elf Lord -

Glorfindel fought the urge to roll his eyes. Discussing trade politics during a feast. How typical of Erestor. 'I deplore the drastic rise in the price of silk,' whined some merchant, whom Elrond had felt obliged to seat next to him. 'Don't you think so, my Lord ?' The silence following the question seemed to stretch, and Glorfindel realised that it had been directed at him.

'Huh?' He snapped out of his daze, and glanced around. The merchant was looking at him expectantly. 'I care not about silk,' snapped the warrior. 'I don't wear dresses.'

Elrond looked at him in reproach. _Can't you be sociable, for once ?_ Glorfindel could almost hear him think. _No, I can't_, he wanted to answer. _You know how I hate those social niceties_.

The merchant shrank back in his chair, and Glorfindel sighed tiredly. It was very praiseworthy of Elrond to try and integrate him in the gathered population, but if he had had it his way, he would've locked himself up for the night with as many bottles of Dorwinion as he could have laid his hands on. To his right, his friend smirked, and the Golden Lord understood that he had read his mind, and was finding his discomfort very amusing. He growled in helpless rage, and shifted in his seat. His backside was growing numb from sitting.

He looked around. No one else seemed to share his impatience; the faces were happy, the voices cheerful, gritting on his nerves like a nail on glass. Something was missing, Glorfindel realised. Someone.

He knew without even looking where she was; he felt the pull every time she was near. And tonight, she was truly stunning. True, her beauty was not that of an elleth, her body was stronger, her features duller. But that was what made her, well, _her_. He couldn't have imagined her otherwise. And she was with another man.

The elf lord glanced towards the centre of the hall, where the dancing had begun. There she was, her partner clinging to her like a leech; they were less graceful than the other couples, and undeniably less beautiful, but in both shone a fire than only humans possess. Seena smiled at the man, and Glorfindel felt as if someone was ripping out his insides. He growled, and glared at the young woman's dancing partner. A part of him wished it was him holding her, breathing in her hair like that…

'Leaving already?'

Glorfindel glanced at Elladan, puzzled. Then he realised that he had subconsciously started to rise from his chair. 'No,' he replied dejectedly, slumping back on his seat. He ignored pointedly Elrond's questioning look, taking care to shield his thoughts.

The music played on, but it brought no joy or relief to the warrior. From his place of honour, he watched as the one he loved danced with another, and suffered.

***

A frightened maid scurried out of his way as Glorfindel stormed down the corridor. 'Not now!' he barked at one of his lieutenants, who approached him with a report. The ellon paled, but bowed respectfully, and Erestor sent him a sympathetic glance. 'Lord Glorfindel, there are reports to be signed,' the Chief counsellor reminded him, hurrying along. 'And the strategy concerning the orc problem to discuss,' he added with a sigh. 'By the stars, could you please slow down?'

Glorfindel ignored him, striding purposefully towards the training field. His anger needed to be vented, and quick. As he passed one of the smaller halls, he spotted Seena's dancing partner. The man looked downcast, and the Golden Lord's heart sung in glee that she might have rejected him.

The man scowled at another, slightly older Southron. 'It's not fair!' he whined. 'I saw her first!'

His elder scoffed. 'Yet you will do as I say, Dalamyr,' he sneered. 'And I say that I want her. She will be mine.'

Dalamyr glared at him. 'I disagree. I saw her first, Narafât. You will wait your turn.' Glorfindel slowed down, listening raptly; unfortunately, Erestor took it as an answer to his pleas, and launched into a report about the safety of the borders. _The safety of the borders_, scoffed the warrior inwardly. He was well aware of it, or rather of its absence; he spent his time scouting for Elrond.

The older man spun around, narrowing his eyes. 'Did you just order me around, you whelp? Me, your commander?!' His grip on the handle of his sword tightened, and Dalamyr backed away in fear. 'I say the whore is mine.' The young man hung his head in defeat, and Narafât grinned. 'Do not worry' he added, patting his shoulder. 'Once that Seena has lain beneath me, she's all yours.'

Before Erestor could react, Glorfindel had pinned Narafât against the wall by the throat. 'Say it again,' he hissed, his eyes narrowing dangerously. 'Call her a whore again. Give me a reason to kill you!'

'Glorfindel!' squeaked Erestor in his back. 'I must protest! This is not diplomatic!'

The grip on the man's throat tightened when he tried to reach for his weapon; before Dalamyr could draw his, he found himself feeling the cold edge of Glorfindel's sword against the skin of his neck. He gulped carefully.

'To Mandos with your diplomacy!' growled the elf lord. His eyes shone with a blue flame. 'Despicable,' he hissed. 'You lowly filth!' Narafât was thrown against the opposite wall; a nearby elleth shrieked in fear.

His naked blade in his hand, Glorfindel advanced upon Narafât. 'You will not look at her again.' The man whimpered as the sword bit once into his cheek. 'You will not speak of her.' Another bleeding cut was made. 'You will never touch her.' Three.

The strong smell of urine filled his nostrils, and he noticed the yellow puddle spreading at Narafât's feet. He smiled coldly, and stared into the Southron's terrified eyes. 'Or I will kill you in cold blood.'

'Glorfindel.' Elrond's voice rang behind him. 'Enough.' The warrior looked at his friend, cold blue eyes meeting grey in a contest of wills. The lord of Imladris lowered his gaze. 'Enough,' he sighed, and Glorfindel nodded.

'The same stands for you, you coward,' he added however, his voice dripping with contempt as he pointed his sword towards Dalamyr. 'If I ever see you around her…' He let the sentence trail off, and smirked as the young man took to his heels.

The Golden Lord looked around, sheathing his sword. Small groups of younger elves had gathered, whispering animatedly and pointing to him; he caught his name, and Seena's. His eyes narrowed in rage.

'Glorfindel.' Elrond put an appeasing hand on his arm, seeing that his grip on his sword had tightened once again. 'Come.' Glorfindel nodded reluctantly. They were only elflings, after all; unwise and curious. He cared not about their silly rumours.

He wasn't even sure what had gotten into him; he only knew that the rage he had felt when Seena's name had been sullied was blinding, and far more powerful than any before. A part of him still hated her for her decision, and the inevitable carnage that would follow; he dreaded the screams of the dying, the memories of his own death still too fresh. He doubted they would ever fade. But another part of him longed for her, slowly corrupting his will. That part was possessive and irrational; it fed readily on his anger, it fed on his fear of loneliness. It spoke through him, and wielded his sword.

Glorfindel understood Elrond's concern; he had always been easily provoked, and dangerous when it occurred. But what Elrond didn't know, but felt in his wisdom, was that the Golden Lord in love, tortured and miserable, was a walking war.


	10. Unsafe

- 10 / Unsafe -

Seena glanced behind her nervously, as they passed yet another group of whispering elves. The inhabitants of Rivendell had suddenly gone from fairly indifferent to wary around her; she suspected that it had something to do with Dalamyr's disappearance.

It seemed that the Haradrim had left at dawn, on the day after the feast, without as much as a goodbye. Seena was puzzled: the warrior had not given her the impression that his departure was so near. And she was sure he would've mentioned it. Truth was, she was hurt. She thought she had found a new friend, possibly more, in the young warrior; apparently, she had been sadly mistaken.

'What is going on?' she whispered to Almwen ; but the elleth only shook her head, casting worried glances around her. 'It is… nothing,' she replied, avoiding Seena's gaze and not even bothering to hide the fact that she was lying. It pained both friends to see it. 'Almwen!' She put a hand on her friend's arm. 'I can see that everyone is looking at me and whispering,' she pleaded. 'Tell me what is wrong. Please.'

The elleth looked directly into her eyes. 'Seena, I cannot!' she murmured, glaring at the curious passers-by. 'I want to, but it is… dangerous. Please!' she grasped Seena's hands in hers. 'I can not speak of it. I am sorry!' There was real fear in her eyes, and Seena sighed. 'You have tried to understand, when I spoke to you of my decision' she began sombrely. 'You are my friend. I will do the same.'

The elleth breathed in relief. 'I am sorry,' she supplied, as they resumed their walk. 'For Dalamyr.' She grimaced, and looked around. 'You liked him.'

'And he didn't like me, it seems,' noted Seena dryly.

Almwen winced. 'Maybe he did?' She sounded uncertain. 'Maybe he was… forced to leave?'

Seena turned around sharply. 'Your're killing me, with your secret,' she sighed.

'I am sorry.' Looking at her friend, Seena saw the tears running down her cheeks, and felt a pang of guilt at her own egotism. After all, Almwen had remained by her side despite the fact that Seena's decision could one day cost her a loved one's life… She sighed again. 'Let us not speak about it anymore.'

Almwen sniffed half-heartedly. 'I wish I could tell you,' she murmured. 'I wish I was not such a coward…'

Seena thought about Almwen's words. If Dalamyr had truly been forced to leave, and if the elleth was so scared, this could only mean one thing: someone with enough influence had chased the Haradrim out of Rivendell, and the announcement had not gone smoothly. This ruled out both Lord Elrond and Erestor; they were both too composed and reflective for such a rash decision. The twins had no reason to throw the Southrons out, and neither did they have the latitude to do so. This left only one option; only one person could scare Almwen so.

Glorfindel.

Seena shivered at the memory of his stare during the feast: so full of contempt and hatred… She would've never thought him cruel, but only he could have separated her from Dalamyr; and there could be only one reason for it. He must have decided to make her suffer, to show her a taste of the sorrow her choice could inflict upon the free people of Middle-Earth. Seena's heart skipped a beat. Was Almwen the next one to go? Would she be left alone again, wandering the quiet halls with no purpose, yet unable to leave? And if Almwen spoke, what retribution would be unleashed upon her?

Seena gulped. For the sake of her friend, she would ask no more about this secret; and maybe it would buy them some more time together.

She looked down, uneasy, as a group of elleths walked by, giggling and murmuring. She could feel their stares at her back; and in every look, she could sense Glorfindel's hatred.

***

Seena tapped her foot impatiently, as Almwen took her time to examine the cakes laid out to cool down on the counter. 'Just grab one and let's get out of here!' she hissed, glancing worriedly towards the door. 'What if Ciaran comes?'

The elleth smiled mischievously. 'He will not,' she smirked. 'He is dealing with the consequences of his drinking… He and Finian tasted the Dorwinion that arrived yesterday.' She delicately prodded one of the cakes with her finger, and grimaced. 'It seems they cannot handle the wine as well as Thranduil…'

Seena winced in sympathy. 'Still,' she mumbled, 'I'd rather we weren't caught stealing food.' To her relief, Almwen seemed to have found a suitably soft cake, and pocketed it.

'Let us go,' she decided, grabbing a jug of apple juice on her way out.

Suddenly, a scream shattered the quiet of the halls. Seena jumped in fright. 'What was that?' she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.

Almwen, equally pale, poked her head through the door. 'I don't see anything,' Seena heard her say.

It was then that another blood-chilling wail echoed down the corridor. 'Orcs!' someone yelled. 'Run!!'

'That is impossible!' protested Almwen weakly. 'The borders are well guarded… Are they not?' She looked helplessly at Seena.

'We should find help,' Seena decided, and exited the room. The same instant, the two friends heard the crunch of a demolished door, and an ugly, dark form appeared at the end of the corridor. Seena gaped at it in horror, taking in the hideous face – if it really could be called a face, the rotten, yet impressive teeth, and the huge blade the creature held in its black hand. Before the orc turned around and saw her, Seena rushed back into the kitchen, pulling behind her a bewildered Almwen. 'Bar the door!' she hissed, closing it behind her. The elleth handed her a broom. 'Don't you have something more… resistant?!'

Outside, the growls and screams were getting closer. Seena spotted an old axe in the corner. Ciaran probably used it to chop wood for his cooking; she dragged it over and blocked the door the best she could. She had barely finished when something slammed against the wood, trying to break into the kitchen. The two friends drew back in horror, huddling together for comfort.

The orcs tried to break down the door one more time, but it resisted; how long it would last, however, Seena was not sure. Her legs failed her, and she slid to the floor, a quietly sobbing Almwen beside her. Her hands trembled in aftermath of the initial shock, and she listened, terrified, to the agonizing screams of the inhabitants of Rivendell.

There would be a resistance, she thought. Lord Elrond would not let his people down, and she couldn't imagine Glorfindel or the twins fleeing their home without a fight. Sooner or later, someone would come for them. _But it better be sooner_.

***

A loud knock on the door made her jump, and she realised, shocked, that she had managed to fall asleep. She glanced to the small window: night had fallen, and the reflection of the fires consuming the settlement painted the kitchen red. Another knock rattled the door, and she clung to Almwen in terror.

'Is there anyone inside?' The voice was distinctly elven, and Seena heard Almwen gasp beside her.

'Elrohir !' She rushed to the door. 'Elrohir?' she whispered against the wood.

'Elladan, actually,' replied the voice on the other side, relieved and slightly amused. 'How many survivors?'

'Two.' Seena had risen from the floor. 'Can we come out?'

'You better,' said Elladan. 'This part is not safe yet. We will bring you to the others.'

Seena pulled out the heavy axe, and the doors swung open, revealing the son of Lord Elrond and several Elven warriors. Seena almost gasped when she saw the amount of blood on their armours and faces, both black and crimson. All of them held their blades ready, glancing around warily.

'Come' gestured Elladan. 'Let us hurry.'


	11. A Small Hope

- 11 / A Small Hope -

The small group crept cautiously down the corridor, paying attention to the slightest details that could betray the presence of an enemy. Several times, Elladan had raised his hand, signalling for a stop, while the scouts checked the way ahead.

Seena followed as silently as she could, stepping over the bloodied corpses, their guts scattered around. She clenched her teeth, swallowing the sobs and the disgust. At least, she was still alive. Beautiful Rivendell lay in ruins before her eyes, broken and burned.

Finally, they reached a part of the house that seemed to have been relatively spared, and Elladan spoke briefly with the armed sentinels who stood watch. 'Go inside' de gestured to an open door. 'You will be safe, there.'

Seena and Alwen obeyed hastily. The Healing Rooms were full, not only with wounded elves, but also with warriors, who protected their Lord as he tried to save the victims of the attack. Almwen looked around. '_Ada ! Naneth !_' she cried, flinging herself into the arms of an elven couple. Her parents hugged her tightly, tears of relief streaming down their cheeks ; Seena watched them, envious. She was happy for her friend, but the scene before her reminded her more than ever of what she had irremediably lost.

She stepped carefully between the sickbeds, allowing Almwen and her family some privacy. All around her, the healers scurried between the wounded, arms full of bandages and salves. But too many were dying, too much blood had been spilt. The young woman watched as an elfling wailed, clutching the motionless hand of his mother. Maybe he was already an orphan, or maybe he'd become one in a matter of minutes… Seena bit back a sob.

She had taken the decision to withhold her knowledge of the possible future. She knew that this choice would bring its inevitable share of deaths, but there was a difference between knowing that huge numbers would die, and seeing them fade away in pain and blood. The elves around her were disappearing, one by one, irremediably. They were suffering, and they would be missed. Seena suddenly wished she was one of them : that would've relieved her guilt.

The young woman slapped herself inwardly and wiped her eyes. Suicide was not an option she wished to examine ; and self-pity would do no-one good. The young woman rolled up her sleeves and walked to the nearest healer. 'I want to help' she said. 'I'm not trained, but I'll do anything. Please, let me help you.'

* * *

Glorfindel brought his blade down in a slashing movement, severing the nearest orc's head. 'Where is the reinforcement ?!' he yelled, slaying another beast. Several corpses away, Elrohir stabbed an enemy before yelling back : 'I don't know ! We've called Finian an hour ago !' The Golden Lord wiped off the blood off his face with his sleeve, and swore. Where was that damned elf ? They were being slaughtered, slowly but surely, and their end would come much quicker than he had hoped if no one came to help them.

A huge orc lunged at him with his primitive weapon ; Glorfindel dodged the blow easily, whirling around in the mud and slashing his attacker across the back. Night had fallen ; they had been fighting for several hours now. The arrival of two of his guards to his side offered him a little respite, and he changed his grip on his sword. The handle was slippery with blood, his fingers growing numb from tiredness and cold.

The elf lord looked around : the small clearing was littered with dead bodies, elf and orc equal in death. He saw Elrohir finish off another enemy, his ancient hatred giving him strength. But it was not enough.

Glorfindel threw himself back into the battle. Despite the noise, the pain and the sorrow, he welcomed the violence ; it helped him forget. When he fought, all his attention was on his movements and those of his adversary. It was a complicated dance, but he had mastered it long ago.

He glanced briefly towards the east, the sound of hooves nearing giving him hope. Maybe Finian was coming, at last… But it was Derval who stormed into the clearing. 'My Lord' he panted, jumping off his horse, 'Finian will not come.' 'What ?' hissed Glorfindel. 'Why ?' Derval unsheathed his sword, and stabbed the nearest orc. 'He was drunk' he breathed out between two blows. 'They found him and killed him in his stupor.'

'They ?' Glorfindel raised a golden eyebrow. '_Yrch_' came the answer.

He almost froze with sudden panic, but caught himself in time before it cost him an arm. 'What do you mean ?!' he snapped. 'Surely…'

'The _yrch_ have pierced our defences, my Lord.' Derval looked at him gravely. 'They have entered Imladris.' Glorfindel's eyes narrowed. 'How long ago ?' he demanded, voice rising in anger. 'Answer me ! How long ago ?' The messenger looked at him, taken aback by the worry in his voice. 'An hour, my Lord' he mumbled nervously.

'Elrohir !'

The dark-haired elf looked around to see Glorfindel run though the clearing ; orcs were falling on his way, his blade a silver blur. 'Imladris has fallen to the hands of the enemy. Retreat !' Elrohir shook his head. 'I can not abandon…' 'This battle is lost !!' The Golden Lord yelled at him. 'Can you not see it ? It is over ! Imladris needs us. Now.'

Lord Elrond's son glanced around. Dead, so many dead… He nodded reluctantly.

They raced into the woods, killing the surprised orcs they found on their way. As he ran, Glorfindel pushed away the dreadful thoughts that kept plaguing him. What if they arrived too late ? What if the settlement had fallen, what if she… He clenched his teeth. No. It would not happen, it could not. He would not allow it.

* * *

The door of the room slammed open, and Glorfindel stepped inside, his sword ready for an eventual attack. His eyes scanned the room frantically, registering the overturned furniture, the shattered glass on the floor… She couldn't be dead. He refused to believe it.

He stepped further into the room. The churning smell of the orcs filled his nostrils, and he grimaced.

_They have been here_, he thought, cold dread gripping him.

Glorfindel kicked a chair out of his way. It hit the broken bed, which fell apart with a loud crack, revealing its devastated contents. The elf's heart skipped a beat. He crouched and picked up a sheet ; the white fabric was stained with a dark substance, that the warrior immediately identified as blood.

He felt like a piece of him had just died : empty and cold, a grey veil before his eyes. Sheathing his sword, forsaking caution, he pushed the heavy piece of furniture away : the space beneath it was empty. He narrowed his eyes. There could still be hope, then… Seena could still be alive.

'Glorfindel ?' called a puzzled Elrohir in his back. 'What are you doing here ?' His elder ignored him, striding hurriedly out of the room. 'Take me to the survivors' he barked out.


	12. Giving Up

- 12 / Giving Up -

Seena rinsed the cloth in the small basin, and applied it gently to the gash. The elf's face remained blank, although the young woman was sure he was suffering greatly. Small rivulets of pink water ran down his forearm as she cleaned the wound, removing the mud and the stripes of dead skin from the gash. She looked up as the warrior jerked slightly. 'I'm sorry' she muttered ; her heart ached during the whole procedure at the sole thought of the pain she was inflicting, even though it was a necessary evil.

The elf shook his head. 'It is nothing' he said through clenched teeth. Seena resumed her work, and soon the wound was as clean as possible, and a healer took over in order to stitch it up. Another injured guard took the free place, and clumsily started pulling up his tunic with one arm. 'Here, let me help you.' Seena leaped to her feet and gently removed the garment. It had been cut open and, accordingly, the elf bore a long, ugly wound across his shoulder and back. 'This will sting' warned Seena before applying the dripping cloth to the flesh.

Hour after hour, as the endless night stretched on and turned into a pale morning, Seena cleaned the wounds, no matter how large or ugly. It was the least she could do : after all, the elves had taken her in with no means of subsistence, and took good care of her no matter how obscure her story was.

She felt her fingers turn numb, her eyelids heavy ; but the number of the injured seemed to increase every second. All the beds were taken, and the least gravely wounded were waiting, their teeth clenched to suppress moans of pain.

Seena had never seen so much blood, nor so many tears. The dead were carried away hastily, making place for the still alive, with little consideration for who they had been. Only the grieving families who accompanied the bodies gave them a semblance of an identity.

'You should rest' murmured Elladan into her ear, as he returned from his watch. 'You are falling asleep on your basin, and it will do the injured no good if your attention falters.' Seena's head jerked up from the slumber she had been sinking into. 'No !' she shook her head, chasing the sleep away. 'I'm fine ; I'll manage.' He looked at her sceptically, but did not argue, and the young woman got back to work, nodding in thanks to the sympathetic glance of the elf she was tending to.

Almwen was working not far away, the water in her basin as crimson as real blood.

A commotion at the door made her look up. There stood Glorfindel, covered in black blood from head to toes, his beautiful face a mask of gore, his eyes wild. She quickly studied him, unconsciously searching for injuries, as he scanned the room. Finally he spotted her in her corner ; his grip on the handle of his sword tightened.

Seena's heart sank, and a painful lump formed in her throat. He was angry ; she could sense the waves of rage emanating from him, and his eyes were even colder than of usual. There could be only one explanation : he had come to mock her, to throw to her face the names of those who had perished, to drown her in their blood. Did he think she didn't hear their cries ? Could he imagine she was indifferent to their suffering ?

Seena clenched her teeth, swallowing a sob. She had had enough. She had thought she could handle the hostility of one elf, but so much hatred and contempt was too much. She could not live and be reminded everyday of how lowly and disgusting he found her and her decision. If he wanted her knowledge, he would get it ; but Seena would see that he walked a mile in her shoes first.

The young woman resumed her work with a renewed energy. Her decision was taken, and as soon as she wasn't needed in the Healing Rooms anymore, she would set her plan into action.

* * *

_For a second, I think she is lost, that it is her blood staining the fabric ; that her small body lies under the bed, her lifeless eyes staring at me in reproach. She is human, so very fragile compared to elves ;__ a broken doll in the yrch's hideous hands._

_I do not know what I would do done if she was dead. But the mere thought of it takes all purpose out of my life ; all sensations grow dull and irritating, and I almost find myself wishing for the numbness death brings.__ I wonder whether the coppery taste in my mouth is my own blood._

_Is this the death by longing some of the elves have experienced ? Is this what it feels like, to die of love ? _

_For a second, I am frozen, dreading the sight of her lifeless form, but the urge to know is too strong._

_She is not here…_

_A small flicker of hope has been lit : she may be alive. Derval mentioned survivors, and I find myself praying Seena is amongst them. Elrohir does not understand my hurry, nor my decision, for the first time since we met, to abandon a battle unachieved. Yet he asks no questions, and leads me to the Healing Rooms. As I walk, I reason that she had very little chance to escape, but the ridiculous hope is still there. A part of me wishes to know the truth, no matter how lethal it might prove ; another would rather believe. And every step brings me closer to my answer._

_I storm inside the room. A healer wants to know whether I am injured ; I am not. The blood is not mine. I look around, searching for a human in the middle of this mess. _

_She is alive._

_Is she__ wounded ? She looks so pale that I fear she is fading ; I have to suppress the urge to scream for a healer._

_Some of my guards died, today. Some are passing away right now, in a bed or on the mud of the woods, trampled, gutted and maybe eaten alive by the yrch. Strangely, it seems less important that the fact that one human girl is alive and well. I want to gather her in my arms and breathe in her scent, I want to yell in joy and relief. In the middle of the mayhem, everything suddenly seems perfectly right, as if her life had delicately shifted the balance of good and evil._

_She lives. Everything is alright._

_And then I understand._

_I measure my world by her presence in it ; this means I envision the world itself, at least for a the few decades to come._

_I want to live._

_I was fading, slowly departing this world to which I feel so estranged. __Somehow, she has found a way to keep me here, to keep me hoping, despite our unsolvable differences. Her choice is wrong, it is selfish, but I need her nonetheless : cowardly, stupid, beautiful._


	13. Left Behind

- 13 / Left Behind -

Seena knocked carefully on the door leading to Lord Elrond's study. Erestor came to open it, and she curtsied : 'I wish to speak with Lord Elrond' she mumbled, slightly intimidated by the stern counsellor. Erestor gestured for her to come in, and she entered the room. Lord Elrond was sitting at his desk ; he looked up from the pile of parchments he was studying, and smiled kindly. 'Sit, Seena. What can I do for you ?'

The young woman sank into a chair, wringing her hands nervously. 'My Lord' she began, 'I can not go on like this.' The elf lifted a dark eyebrow. 'I can not stay here anymore.' There, she had said it. Seena awaited anxiously his answer.

Lord Elrond glanced at his advisor, and leaned back in his chair. 'I understand' he said gravely, 'That your stay here has not been as pleasant as I would've wanted.' Erestor grimaced at his words and sighed. 'But I have to maintain what I said. You may not leave Rivendell, not with your knowledge.' He frowned. 'If it is for your safety that you fear, let me assure you that the tragic events of the past days will not happen again.'

Seena gulped. There was a steely edge to his voice, and she understood that he wasn't only a wise elf lord ; he was, first and foremost, a warrior, who had seen many a battle and had survived.

Seena shifted uncomfortably in her seat under the unwavering gaze. 'My Lord.' She gathered her courage. 'This is no place for me.' He took his breath to speak, but she was quicker : 'Please hear me out. Your house is magnificent, and your hospitality more than I could've hoped for. I ache for the losses Imladris has suffered, and I have no doubt you are more than capable of protecting your people. But' she bit her lip, 'I do not belong here. Not only this is not my world, but I would like…' Her voice wavered. 'I would like to be amongst my kind. And as for the knowledge I carry… I will write down everything I know. You have my word that nothing will be left out. Then you can decide whether you wish to read it or not.' She met his grey eyes. 'I swear to never speak of it.'

The lord of the Last Homely House glanced sceptically at her. 'And you would leave me this report ?' She looked at her hands, fidgeting. 'I would rather… leave it for Lord Glorfindel. He has been most adamant to know what is to come, it is only just that he read of it first.'

She looked up again, only to see Lord Elrond smile. 'Of course' he agreed, smirking, 'Our Chief of Guards has been a little… difficult about your choice.' Erestor rolled his eyes. 'Very well. I accept to let you leave Rivendell.'

Both the Chief counsellor and Seena stared at him in surprise. 'You do ?' He shrugged. 'Provided that you are accompanied by some of my warriors, to ensure your safety during the journey, you may leave.' The young woman nodded enthusiastically, relief written all over her face. 'Thank you, my Lord…'

He smiled warmly. 'Although I am sure that you will be dearly missed' he said, 'There is truth is your words. You belong with Men. And the nearest kingdom, if we want to avoid a route across the Misty Mountains – which I would recommend, in these troubled times – is Rohan.'

* * *

Seena mounted her horse, a black mare named Mornië, and looked around one last time, trying to memorize the beautiful sights of Rivendell. Few were those who could say that they had seen the home of the elves, and Seena knew she was lucky to be one of them.

Almwen waved her goodbye, tears streaming down her cheeks, and the young woman felt a lump form in her throat at the idea of never seeing her friend again. The elleth was the best thing that had happened to her since her arrival ; she hoped she would be well, and happy.

Unconsciously, her eyes scanned the surroundings, wishing to catch one last glimpse of the reason for her departure, but Glorfindel was absent. Even though the pain he had caused her, Seena was disappointed. He was a memory she would cherish as well, if only for the sweet emotions he stirred in her heart whenever she thought of him.

'My Lady… Shall we go ?' one of the members of the escort provided by Lord Elrond inquired politely, and she nodded reluctantly. Indeed, it was time for her to leave this place, and to search for one of her own. 'Yes, Conleth, thank you…' She sighed heavily, and waved a last goodbye to the crying Almwen. 'Goodbye, my friend' she whispered. 'May you live in peace.'

She nudged Mornië forward, and followed the escort out of the settlement.

* * *

Glorfindel dismounted gracefully, despite the tiredness brought by a week of scouting and cleaning up the woods. The last of the _yrch_ had finally been found and executed, and Imladris could breathe again. The elf lord looked at the blackened façade of the buildings, at the broken railings that still wore traces of blood. 'It was a close victory' commented Elladan by his side. Glorfindel scowled. 'Finian was lucky the _yrch_ found him first' he growled, throwing Asfaloth's reins to the elf in charge, and mentally apologizing to his steed for the foul behaviour.

Not waiting for the rest of his group, the warrior went up the stairs four at a time and stormed into his study. He sank into his chair and he ran his fingers through his matted hair. The week had been beyond exhausting : hunting down the _yrch_ had been a dirty job. Most of the elves of the group had lost a parent in the attack, and they had shown no mercy, killing each beast viciously. Glorfindel had led the hunt, but the carnage had left a bitter taste in his mouth. It seemed to him that the same story of failure and betrayal kept repeating over and over again.

The Golden Lord shook his head, chasing away the sombre thoughts. All that he should be thinking of was a bath and a bed, and not necessarily in that order.

He opened his eyes wearily, ready to act upon his desires, and his gaze fell on a folded parchment left on his desk. He frowned, but took the letter and opened it. It was written in Westron. Glorfindel glanced directly at the signature, and his heart skipped a beat. It was from Seena.

He read the letter hungrily, all thoughts of sleep vanished :

_Lord __Glorfindel,_

_When you will find this letter, I hope that I will far away. According to your wish, that you expressed the first time we met, I have laid down on paper everything that I know about this world, and what should happen to it. The report is sealed : you are free to decide whether you still wish to know the future or not._

_Seena_

The elf lord dropped the letter on his desk, and leaned back in his seat. She was gone, and it was his fault. He would never see her again. He closed his eyes. Once again, the people he loved had left him behind, staring at the empty place.

The warrior shivered, despite the fire roaring in the fireplace. He felt cold, uneasy, as if he had lost something very important that he had possessed without knowing it.

From the surface of his desk, the thick, sealed letter containing the future of Middle-Earth stared at him reproachfully.


	14. Just Like You

- 14 / Just Like You -

_I do not know how long I have been sitting here ; covered in blood and sweat, tired and lonely. __The fire has died out long ago, the night has fallen. And I keep staring at your sealed letter._

_It is like a treasure, full of promises and bright perspectives, victory shimmering before my eyes. I only have to reach out and grasp it… But I am afraid.__ You have written everything you know, everything that will happen. Does it involve us knowing it ? Did we – will we - act according to this plan ?_

_Darkness is rising. I have felt it, in the air and the earth ; already our enemies are getting bolder, orcs scouting closer to Imladris. A great battle is preparing, as you know it. And I wonder. In the struggles to come, w__ere we brave and wise, or only wisely instructed ? Our dead, did we sacrifice them knowing they were a price we would pay gladly to stay alive ? Did we look them in the eye, knowing they were doomed, and still lie to their face ? Or did we mourn their untimely, unfair loss ?_

_Are we heroes__, or traitors ?_

_You were right, Seena. You were right, and I was wrong. This knowledge is not for us. You were right to fear the consequences, as I do now. Everything I was so sure of, every reproach that I made to you, I should now reproach myself. I am a coward. Just like you. But I want to believe that the decisions I will take will come from the heart, solely dictated by courage and loyalty. _

_I watch as the parchment curls up and darkens, the last little flames licking it hungrily ; it seems fire has the will that I lack, unravelling the secrets of our future.__ Once it is entirely consumed, I will come for you, my love. Wherever you are hiding from me, I will find you. _

_I know you hate me ; I have seen to it. But I can not let you go, not in anger and contempt. I want you to know that I love you._

_Somehow, I find myself hoping that this is only a mistake, and that you have loved me back since the first glance, that you will run to me, and that all will be well at last. My reason tells me there is no such chance._

_It is a question of survival for me, to have you by my side ; it seems that you are to decide once again of another's life or death._

_

* * *

  
_

The door of Glorfindel's study smashed open and Erestor jumped in surpise, looking guilty. The warrior stormed past him, ignoring the intrusion on his privacy. The Chief Counsellor looked puzzled. He had probably expected a glare, or a growl, or both.

He took off after the Golden Lord, struggling to walk at his pace, his long, flowing robes hindering him. 'Glorfindel' he panted, 'Elrond wants to see you.' The other elf ignored his remark, striding purposefully towards the stables. 'Glorfindel !'

Glorfindel was in a hurry. Seena must've left Rivendell three days ago, at most ; he hoped Asfaloth had rested sufficiently to carry him with his usual speed. 'Where has she gone ?' the question and the somewhat harsh tone caught Erestor off guard. 'Who ?' he frowned. 'Seena !' hissed Glorfindel, throwing a saddle on Asfaloth's back. 'Where has she gone ?'

'You should know.' Erestor narrowed his eyes. 'You are the one chasing her away !' The warrior growled an elvish curse and tossed his head impatiently. 'Where to ?' he demanded again. 'I have no time to lose !'

'Glorfindel, do refrain from molesting my advisor' drawled Elrond's amused voice from behind. 'I might find him of use in the future.'

The Golden Lord tightened the girth. 'Then you better tell me what I ask' he warned, watching as his friend's eyebrows rose in mock surprise. 'I will' promised Elrond. 'If I am sure that you will not harm her again.'

Glorfindel sighed heavily, and looked at Erestor, who took the hint. 'I will return to my work' he announced and walked away. The two elves watched his retreating back, until they were sure he was out of earshot. Then Glorfindel sank onto a nearby bench. Apparently, there was no way of discovering Seena's destination without giving Elrond something in exchange – and he knew exactly what that meddling elf wanted to hear. He gritted his teeth in irritation, and gathered his strength to push the words out of him. Reluctant, shy words that he'd have to say anyway, he thought. He suspected that Seena would not agree to return just because he pleaded.

'I love her' Glorfindel said gravely. He glanced at the surprised elf beside him. 'What ?' he snapped as Elrond's lips curved up in a smile. 'Since when ?' the Lord of Imladris inquired. Glorfindel cocked an eyebrow. 'Does it matter ?'

Elrond shook his head. 'I am merely trying to discover whether your intentions are honest' he said, laying a sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder. 'Glorfindel, it is merely my concern for your feelings, and Seena's, that dictate my caution. You hurt her deeply, and winning her back will not be easy.'

'But I _am_ bringing her back.' Glorfindel promised, rising from the bench. There was no need to remind him of the extent of the damage he had caused, unless one wanted to see him suffer more than he already had in this life. He suspected that Elrond secretly enjoyed lecturing him ; the wise lord of Imladris, and his rash, foolish Chief of Guards. 'So ?' he asked impatiently. 'Will you tell me where she ran away to, or shall I search all Arda ?'

'Had I not known for sure your age, I would've thought you younger than my sons' noted Elrond dryly. 'Even they are wiser than you.' Glorfindel's eyes narrowed ; he leaped into the saddle, but Elrond called after him : 'Head South' he advised. 'She will follow the road to Rohan.'

Asfaloth sensed his rider's impatience, and leaped forward as soon as he felt the tension on the reins lessen. Glorfindel stormed through the gates, startling the guards. The road South lay before him, grey in the starlight. Somewhere ahead of him, Seena rode to Rohan, her heart heavy with the pain he had inflicted. Before the night died, he hoped he could wipe that pain away.

* * *

Seena was exhausted. Her eyelids were heavy, and every muscle in her body ached from the day's ride ; she was utterly disappointed with herself. She had thought herself capable of riding the whole day without too much trouble, but she realized she had been sadly mistaken. Beside her, her elven escort rode in silence, seemingly untroubled by fatigue and as graceful as ever.

'Lady Seena, do you wish to halt ?' inquired politely one of the elves, and she nodded. Despite her reluctance to admit her weakness, the young woman was relieved, and looked forward to a fire and a meal. She winced while dismounting ; it felt as if every inch or her was screaming in outrage at the effort. An elf kindly took the reins and led Mornië away, another gestured to a place by the starting fire. Seena thanked them quietly ; she felt a little awkward in their company, for she knew none of them. The young woman remembered a few names, but wasn't sure who was who anymore, and dared not ask.

She sat down and extended her hands to the fire, relishing the warmth. The flames danced merrily on the dried wood that had been gathered, lighting up the elves' almost unnaturally handsome faces. Despite the months spent in their company, Seena still couldn't get used to so much beauty. It was almost painful, bringing out sharply every flaw, not only in her, but in every aspect of her life.

One of the sentinels, who had been watching the surroundings of the clearing for any sign of danger, suddenly called out in elvish. 'A rider is coming' he announced in a low voice ; all hands slid to the sword hilts, ready to defend Seena and their comrades if the intruder's intentions proved to be a threat. The young woman sprang to her feet, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. She didn't possess the slightest skill in combat ; she had no way to defend herself, should the escort fail. She didn't even run that fast…

The elves stepped back, gathering in a semi-circle around her.

The leaves rustled, and a tall silhouette slowly stepped into the clearing. Seena gasped as she recognized Glorfindel. Covered in mud and dried blood, his hair tangled, his eyes tired and wild, he ignored the surprised greetings of the guards and walked straight to where Seena stood.

The young woman remained rooted to the spot, unable to move ; she couldn't define whether fear or shock had left her in such a state. Trembling, she waited for something to happen. Silence, awkward and endless, embraced the scene.

'Leave us.' The tone was cold, commanding ; the escort drew back, disappearing into the darkness of the woods.


	15. Accomplished

- 15 / Accomplished -

Seena stood and waited. _Why has he come ?_ The question kept playing in her mind. She inhaled sharply in surprise as Glorfindel stepped closer to her.

'Come back.' Seena stared at him, not believing her own ears. She opened her mouth to speak and realized she didn't know to say. 'Come back to Imladris with me.'

It was impossible, utterly impossible. Glorfindel, the magnificent, haughty warrior, the reborn elf lord with the scars and nightmares to prove it, couldn't possibly have gone after her to ask her to return to Rivendell. It was more incredible than in her wildest fantasies ; yet she was certain she wasn't dreaming. She could feel the cold air pricking her skin, could see every golden lash of those violent blue eyes, so dark in the moonlight. Her heart beat faster, her wild dreams washing over her. In that second, all her pain was forgotten. 'I… Why ?' she stuttered, trembling. 'Why do you ask this of me ?'

Glorfindel took a step closer ; Seena's breath caught in her throat. 'I was wrong' he whispered. 'I was wrong, and you were right. I ask for your forgiveness.'

Seena wondered whether she should've felt relieved, or elated by this declaration. After all, it was what she had sought, during all these months… To convince him, and herself, of the rightness of her choice. Wasn't it ? The young woman swallowed with difficulty the taste of disappointment. She had really expected – and hoped for - relief. But all she found was emptiness. He had come to clear his conscience. _How honourable of him_, she thought bitterly.

'You are forgiven.' A thousand times forgiven, she added in her mind. She could not remain angry with him, never. She loved him too much for that. Yes, she loved him : a blazing, churning, heartbreaking love. He was everything she ever wished for, everything she missed. Brilliant, fascinating, Glorfindel made the rest of the world seem dull to her ; it was enough for her to recall his face, and the colours and the sensations would fade out in comparison. She knew that from then on her life would be bleak, for nothing could compare to him.

Seena turned away at her own words. She didn't want to see him leave ; this way, she could imagine that he was still there, that the heat lingering in the air between them wasn't only a trace left by his body, that he would say…

'I love you' Glorfindel grumbled, and immediately cursed in elvish. Seena blinked. His voice sounded so close, so marvellously close. If she turned around, really carefully, she could see his eyes again…

They were darker than before, a blue light deep within that gleamed dangerously, as if slumbering, waiting for his wrath to unleash. Seena's heart skipped a beat. _He has mud on his cheeks_, she thought absently, her hand almost reaching out to wipe it away. Silence stretched on, and the young woman wondered whether she had heard him wrong. 'I love you' he repeated, softer this time.

'Really ?'

Seena grimaced inwardly at the stupid question, the first one to spring into her mind after the initial shock ; at how childish her voice sounded, so full of desperate hope. She clung to that hope. 'Really ?' she repeated. Glorfindel nodded. 'Really' he whispered. His breath felt so warm on her skin…

Seena's legs almost gave way as the warrior reached out and caressed her cheek, his fingers snaking out to pull her closer. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, then pulled back. Terrified and extatic, Seena stood up on her toes, a small part of her wondering at her courage. She sought the contact again, and the elf lord gave in eagerly.

The young woman shivered, and felt strong, warm arms embrace her. 'I love you' she whispered against his mouth. 'I hoped you would come for me.' She felt her heart flutter as she said the words, awaiting the consequences of her confession ; Glorfindel smiled down at her. 'Then we are both dreamers, _meleth nín_…'

* * *

_A year later…_

The Road lay before them, grey and deserted in the dim light. A cold wind had risen, blowing right through their cloaks. Soon Strider took pity of the poor Hobbits, and decided to make camp for the night. They had barely begun to look for a suitable place, away from sight, when they heard the quickly nearing sound of hooves.

'Quick !' hissed Strider, drawing his sword. 'Hide !' The Hobbits dived behind a couple of bushes, listening in fear to the threatening sound. 'They are coming !' murmured Sam, clutching the handle of his frying pan. 'Strider !' Crouched next to them, the ranger raised a hand, asking for silence. The horse slowed down, then stopped, exactly beside their hiding place ; Frodo felt his heart hammering madly in his chest, and closed his eyes. They had been found.

'_Ai na vedui Dunadan ! Mae govannen !_' The clear voice was not that of a Wraith, and Strider smiled, relieved. 'Glorfindel !' he exclaimed, standing up, 'We are glad to see you.' The elf, for the rider was an elf, fair and golden-haired, smiled wryly. 'Indeed' he nodded. 'I can see that.' His beautiful face grew serious again. 'I have come to find you and bring to Rivendell' Glorfindel said. 'Lord Elrond has felt that the Nine were on your trace.' He frowned, looking at Frodo who was trembling. 'It seems that the story must wait. The Hobbit wears the mark of the Wraiths. He must receive elven medicine, else he will fade.'

'He was stabbed by a Morgul blade' nodded Strider hastily. 'Then we will not delay' : the elf lord marched to his horse. 'We must reach the Bruinen ford.' He mounted swiftly and reached out for Frodo. 'Come' he urged, 'Asfaloth will carry us to safety. He is faster than any black steed.'

But the Hobbit did not move. 'I refuse to abandon my friends to danger' he said, despite the pain that spread through his body from the wound.

'Danger ?' repeated Glorfindel. 'On the contrary, they will be safer once you leave' he drawled. 'It is you, and what you carry, that the Wraiths are after.' Frodo glanced uncertainly at his friends. 'Go on, Mister Frodo !' urged Sam, worry written all over his kind face. 'You go with Glorfindel. We will join you in Rivendell.'

Frodo nodded reluctantly, and allowed Strider help him into the saddle, in front of the elf who immediately nudged his horse into a gallop.

Asfaloth ran like the wind, through the old woods and the plain. At the end of the day, as a crimson sun set on the horizon, the two riders saw nine shadows appear behind them. The Wraiths closed in on them, sinister prey birds, fearless and immortal. Their screams echoed in Frodo's very bones, and Glorfindel noticed his pain. '_Noro lim, Asfaloth !_' he cried. '_Noro lim !_' The Bruinen ford lay before them, but two of the Nine were racing to the bank, obviously hoping to reach the river first. '_Noro lim !_'

Sensing his rider's distress, the steed leaped forward, summoning all its strength. Just in time. The riders crossed the river, leaving the Wraiths on the other side.

Glorfindel pulled on the reins and glanced behind him. The black horses pawed the ground nervously, loathe to touch the water. 'Abandon the Halfling !' hissed one of the dark figures from under its hood. 'Come back. Give us the Ring !' The Golden Lord drew his sword, the whisper of metal echoing in the valley. 'Come and claim him !' he hissed through clenched teeth. Then he waited and hoped, remembering the letter that he never read, and Seena's confidence, when he had kissed her goodbye in the morning.

One of the Wraiths finally decided to give it a try. He kicked his horse, and the animal stepped into the water. Nothing happened, and the other riders soon joined him in the middle of the ford. 'Elrond' murmured Glorfindel, 'Now would be the time to read my mind !'

As on cue, a whisper ran down the valley. The water seemed to seep from the ground, the current growing stronger by the second. The Bruinen grew, obeying ancient magic, and the black horses started to panic. They kicked, throwing their riders, trying to get back on the bank, but the current washed them away.

Only when the scared whinnying died away did Glorfindel sheathe his blade.


	16. Epilogue

- 16 / Epilogue -

"Well ?"

Manwë almost jumped in surprise, but suppressed that instinctive movement at the last second. The Lord of the Valar is never caught off guard, he thought, irritated at his own distraction. He turned slowly towards the speaker : his beautiful wife, Varda. "It is accomplished" he stated with a glance beyond the seas, to the sunlit valley of Imladris. "The Ringbearer is safe. The small hope ignited by the finding of the Ring has been preserved."

"Indeed." Varda came closer. "And now, husband of mine, what shall become of them ?"

Manwë pondered the question for a minute, perfectly aware of who exactly she meant by _them_. "I understand your concern" he sighed. "But there is naught than we can do, now. She is mortal." Varda's eyes darkened with sadness. "So we have condemned him" she whispered. "Used him and sacrificed him for the greater good." She walked slowly to the window of the palace and looked to the East. "The greater good" she repeated. "All is well, then. There is hope for Arda." Varda turned around to face Manwë. "But tell me, why does this victory leave such a bitter taste ?"

* * *

Seena ran her fingers through the golden mane, relishing the softness of it. She brushed delicately a rebel strand of hair out of Glorfindel's face, and smiled in response to the greeting of an elf who passed by. The elf lord in her lap tensed, and glared at the onlooker, perhaps in case he dared repeat that he saw the haughty Glorfindel in such a relaxed and unguarded pose. Seena cocked an eyebrow. 'Was that necessary ?' she inquired ; Glorfindel smiled sheepishly.

The young woman rolled her eyes. Since the declaration of his feelings he had been courting her. Usually, elves had thousands of years for flowers and poems. Glorfindel, however, knew that she hadn't the same lifespan at her disposal. His courtship was passionate and life-threatening, especially towards other males, but also clumsy and touching. He had never loved, in his first life, and lacked the experience of how to treat a beloved woman. Seena knew that after his first – and disastrous, in his opinion – gift, he had resorted to his friends' advice. Apparently, Erestor had been keen on helping him : Seena had now enough books to fill another library.

They sat in silence, enjoying the sunshine and each-other's company. Seena was comfortable with just being with him, and so was he. He seemed content, she thought ; she had even caught him smiling at her, sometimes, when he was sure no one was watching.

Glorfindel was a quiet elf, she had discovered ; quiet and secretive. He didn't value words, preferring to act upon his feelings ; but even those displays of affection were dispensed parsimoniously, and kept away for private moments like small treasures. They seldom spoke, lacking a common background for lengthy conversations. True, Seena had told him of her world, and he had told her some of his past, but she knew that some things were better left unsaid. Like her mortality, or his death. There was still time, and only the Valar knew what the future would bring.

* * *

That's the end, folks ! Thanks to all who read, even more to those who reviewed... Go on, don't be shy, let me know what you think ! :D


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